


Borderlines & Aliens

by toolatefordancing



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, Weed, as well as nick in like one sentence, if that bothers people, library!au, niall and harry are mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-09 00:40:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4327221
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/toolatefordancing/pseuds/toolatefordancing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Zayn catches Louis smoking weed in the library :)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Borderlines & Aliens

**Author's Note:**

> hii! :) so, this is the first thing I've ever written so yay!  
> Zayn pretty much is me in this fic, and I decided to write it after a conversation that I had with [Pixie](http://www.specklesocks.tumblr.com) after some guy got caught smoking weed at the library I work in. 
> 
> A huge thanks to Pixie btw for beta-ing this mess, and being super amazing 24/7.
> 
> Also, listen to Borderlines And Aliens by Grouplove because I thought about it a lot for Louis in this. Plus it's just a good song.

It’s been three hours of his seven hour shift, and Zayn is beyond ready for his lunch break. He can see Liam out of the corner of his eye, his hair buzzed for the summer, searching amazon for some type of hemorrhoid cream. Zayn cringes, hoping that it’s for one of his Very Difficult summer classes he’s taking and not for personal use. Then he sees him switch to a word document filled that seems to be a very lengthy essay, and breathes a sigh of relief.

Zayn looks back to the book in front of him. He made the very wise decision, in his humble opinion, not to take any summer classes this year. He wants to read books that he chose at the pace that he wants this summer. He wants to rekindle his passion for books that being an English major can sometimes suck out of you. So, now he’s starting his third book for the summer, and he’s decided to reread The Picture of Dorian Gray. It’s amazing, but right now he’s staring at it blankly, eyes seeing words about a girl knowing nothing but shadows but he’s not reading any of them. It’s hard to focus on an empty stomach and he’s wondering if he should go ahead and take his lunch or wait another thirty minutes so that it splits the shift exactly in half. He’ll wait. 

He hums quietly, not wanting to upset Liam who is constantly on the verge of panic, and looks up at the bleak, white vaulted ceiling. He sighs deeply, closing his eyes. Working in a library is definitely not the most fun job. His back is sore from sitting in these old swivel chairs for multiple hours every day and he can feel his daily, florescent-light-induced headache coming on. Plus, he doesn’t even get the perk of calling himself a librarian because he doesn’t even work near the books. He just sits at the front desk, answering questions, and giving out computer passwords to visitors.

  


During the semester the front desk also takes care of noise complaints and other problems with the patrons, which can be quite interesting, but during the summer nothing really happens. Ever. Honestly, he shouldn’t complain. He mostly sits and reads and listens to music, if he remembers to bring his headphones, and it’s all fine and dandy as he watches Liam scramble trying to finish whatever assignment he has that day. But still. It’s boring and he’s starting to feel his stomach rumble from skipping out on breakfast. God he wants to take that break.

He leans back in the chair; it groans underneath his weight. He’s made a bet with himself to see if one of them will break before the fall semester starts. His money is on the red, wobbly one with the dark, mystery stains on the backrest. He hates that chair and its mystery stains. He made Liam sit in it today because, well honestly, Liam is a bit of a pushover and why not. Liam never seems to mind  
Zayn looks back down at the words on the page, and realizes that he probably has only read one sentence in the last hour. It’s about time to just go to lunch.  
He sighs, looking over at Liam. “Hey, Li.” 

Liam looks over, startled, like he forgot Zayn was there, his big brown eyes wide and his eyebrows raised, mouth slightly ajar. Zayn can feel the corner of his own mouth tug up into a smile, amused by his co-worker’s reaction. 

“I think I’m gonna go ahead and take my lunch br-“, he starts, but he’s interrupted by the phone.

Rude. He sighs. Liam looks even more surprised than before by the sudden ringing, his mouth opening to the point that it looks uncomfortable, before he collects himself. It takes everything in Zayn to keep from laughing as he watches Liam practically fling himself at the phone, answering, as serious as ever, “Hello, library front desk…oh. Seriously?...That’s…that’s…oh my… ok yes we’ll be right up. Thanks.”

Zayn raises one of his eyebrows at the now-flustered boy, wanting to know what that phone call could’ve said to cause that pained look on the other boy’s face. 

“Someone’s smoking pot.”, Liam says, his eyebrows furrowing, looking genuinely upset by the news.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“In one of the group study rooms. Harry from the media lab just called, and apparently he was passed the hallway and he could smell it. He said it’s pretty strong.” 

Zayn stares blankly at the other boy, “Are you taking the piss?” 

Liam jolts, as if he were physically shocked, putting a hand to his heart, “No. No, I would never. This is serious.”

“Ok but…but why would someone come into a library to smoke? Who does that?”

Liam shakes his head, “I really don’t know, but we need to go and check it out. Maybe call campus police. And…and…I feel bad asking, but would you mind doing it? I know you were about to take your break, but I…I just have so much homework for this class and I need to get this paper done by tomorrow and I have a test next week that I need to study for and I’m honestly getting so stressed out and everything is too much and I don’t know if I can take much more and…” 

Zayn puts a hand out, stopping his now frantic co-worker from his rambling, hoping that he’s just imagining the, what seems to be, tears in his eyes. “Woah, woah, chill out, mate. I can go look. Don’t worry about it. It’s not a big deal. I’ll just take my break after.”

He feels bad for the guy. He always has so much to do, so many terms to memorize, so many grueling tests. Sometimes Zayn’s glad he’s an English major. 

He pushes himself back from the desk, standing up and stretching for the first time since he came in today. He feels his back pop a few times, and looks back over at Liam, who has returned to manically typing away at the computer, a frown etched into his features. Zayn’s not sure if it’s from him popping his back or if it’s because the poor boy is still doing research on hemorrhoids. He shrugs, turning around, and pats his hoodie pouch, making sure he has his cell phone as walks out from behind the desk. 

“I’ll call and let you know what’s going on”, he tells Liam over his shoulder, only getting a slight grunt in response. He sighs and keeps walking away, debating whether taking the elevator to the second floor is too lazy, even for his standards. He takes it anyway.

When he gets off the elevator and starts walking towards the hallway that leads to the study rooms, the smell hits him. Shit, that is some strong weed.  
He still doesn’t understand who the fuck would come into a library, at noon, to smoke up. He just hopes that whoever it is has left by now so that he doesn’t have to deal with this and can go to lunch. Fuck, he’s hungry. 

The smell of weed gets stronger as he keeps walking, and as he passes room 234 he starts coughing, the smell overwhelming. This must be it. He braces himself and pushes the door open, revealing the dimly lit room. The light switch has been turned off, and the only light source is the window on the far wall. Even the natural light is dimmed by the general smokiness permeating the air, making the small study room seem a bit ominous. Zayn flicks the light on. He doesn’t to notice anybody sitting around. He sighs out in relief and starts to turn around to leave. Liam would probably check every room just to make sure, but to be quite honest, Zayn just doesn’t really give a fuck. Lunch is much more important. But as he’s turning the light back off, a voice comes from over behind the desk, “Hi.” 

If anyone asks, Zayn did not squeal. If anything it was a dignified, manly grunt. He jumps, turning back around, to see a guy who was previously hidden in his peripherals. And…god he’s pretty. He’s got a brown, fluffy fringe, blue, crystal eyes that seem to cut through Zayn’s skin, and a light dusting of scruff covering his well-sculpted cheekbones. The boy smiles impishly, those dissecting eyes scrunching up, filled with a lazy mirth. The boy waits a bit and then raises his eyebrows questioningly when Zayn doesn’t respond. Oh right. Shit, words. He’s supposed to say words. But, what is he supposed to say? ‘Hi, you’re very beautiful and I would very much like to kiss you, but first I have to call the police because you are smoking weed in a library.’ And God, now he still hasn’t said anything, just staring at this mystical man like some sort of serial killer. Shit. Shit. God just something, just say anything. 

He decides to go with the ever-casual, “Um, what are you?” Which, great. That’s great. What are you? Now, he’s thoroughly managed to embarrass himself in front of this ethereal creature, who happens to be in the cutest speckled trackies he’s ever seen.

Zayn sighs. Now he will definitely never get the chance to kiss that boy’s stupid, beautiful face and… Wait. He’s here for a reason. Zayn breaks himself out of his shame-spiral, and realizes that the cute, elven boy is laughing. He’s laughing at him, like really hard. The stranger’s face is turning red, his fists curled up in his oversized green hoodie. Laughing. Fuck.

“What am I?” he asks incredulously, now looking at Zayn with his eyebrows almost to his hairline. 

“I..I no. I mean what are you doing in here?” Zayn stutters back. Fuck, he’s normally cooler than this. What is happening to him? He’s always chill, always cool. Cool as a cucumber. Zayn Malik is ice cold.  
The boy looks at him now, his eyes watering slightly from laughing so hard, and flashes a big smile at him. Abort. Abort. Zayn is not cool. Zayn is the opposite of cool. Zayn is melting. 

“Well I was just…chilling. Why’d you ask?” The boy’s lilting yet raspy voice is dripping with a cheeky, fake nonchalance. He takes a crisp out of the bag in front of him, and.. wait, Zayn didn’t even notice that before. God, that is a big bag of Doritos. Zayn’s can feel his stomach rumble at the sight. He looks back up from the chip bag reluctantly to find those blue eyes set on him, dancing with laughter. 

“Did you happen to smoke a joint up here while you were just ‘chilling’?” The authority that Zayn tried to put in his voice came out more like flirting, and shit, no. He is doing his job, not flirting with this tanned, god-like boy who now has cheese from the Doritos dusting his scruff. Zayn wants to lick it off. 

“If I told you that I did, what would you do?” The stranger asks in return, seeming to adapt the same flirty tone that Zayn had used. And shit. Well if they’re going to be flirting, he should definitely come up with something to call him other than “stranger”. That’s not what you call a boy who you want to kiss into infinity. He looks over him, drinking in his appearance, and finds himself mesmerized by his golden skin. Golden Boy it is. 

Golden Boy seems to get nervous with Zayn’s pause, his eyes now darting around Zayn’s face and his fingers picking at a hangnail. 

“Well I would probably have to call campus police, mate.”

“Hmmm. Fair enough. But, what if I also told you that I had another joint and I am willing to share?” Golden Boy’s eyes start shining in a way that can’t be human, a smirk tugging at his lips. Zayn has decided that Golden Boy is an alien. It’s the only explanation. 

Zayn considers it. Honestly, his ritual headache is in full force, and he is bored as fuck down at the front desk with nothing to look forward to for the rest of his shift except Dorian. And if anyone would understand blowing things off to spend time with beautiful boys, he’s sure it would be Oscar Wilde. Zayn sighs.

“Well in that case, I will join you one condition.”

“And what’s that?” He’s eyeing Zayn, his lips pursed. Zayn is sure that he’s going to be his downfall. 

“You have to share your crips because I’m honestly starving.”

Golden Boy smiles so big, Zayn is sure it hurts. He can feel his own smile spread across his face when the boy nods.

“Of course. ‘s only polite, isn’t it?”

“Alright, I’ll be right back.” Zayn says, the smile not leaving his face, as he backs out of the room, unable to tear his gaze away from Golden Boy. He’s afraid that if he looks away, the other boy will evaporate into a mist of shimmering glitter and Dorito cheese or maybe be teleported back to his space ship. He is forced to tear away his gaze once he gets out of the doorway, and he heads towards the utilities closet at the end of the hall as quickly as he can. He searches for a while and eventually finds the can of Febreeze, tucking it under his arm while he fishes his phone out of his hoodie. He dials the front desk, hearing the very faint ringing of the phone before Liam inevitably picks it up.

“Hello, library front desk.” 

“Hey Li. I looked in all of the rooms, but it seems like whoever it was already left.”

“Oh, okay then.” Liam says, sounding a bit disappointed, “Well, I guess there’s nothing we can do about it now.” Zayn breathes out a sigh of relief. 

“Yeah well I think I’m gonna take my lunch break now. I’ll be back in an hour.”

“Alright! Have a good lunch, mate.”

“Yeah, and you have fun with your hemorrhoids.” Zayn can hear Liam’s stuttering as he hangs up. 

He heads back to the room, spraying the air freshener throughout the hall as he goes, where hopefully he will find Golden Boy and not just an empty desk. When he walks in, he is not disappointed. Golden Boy is sitting with his feet kicked up on the desk, leaning back in the chair with the front legs off the floor. He smiles when he sees Zayn walk through the door and puts his chair back on all four legs. 

“I was a bit worried you weren’t coming back, and that the police were going to be the ones walking through the door.” His voice is teasing, but there’s a note of honesty that makes Zayn’s heart pang.  
God, he hasn’t even had a full conversation with this guy and he’s already weak for him. He honestly never stood a chance. 

“Nah, I just went to get this,” Zayn says, holding up the Febreeze, “to help the smell. It reeks all the way down the hall.”

“Oh. Well, good thinking.”

“Yeah…”

There’s an awkward pause, and Zayn feels like a bit of an idiot, standing there in the middle of the room just holding out the can of air freshener to a complete stranger that he’s pretty sure is an alien. But he doesn’t have too much time to dwell on it because the boy is suddenly pulling back the empty chair next to him and patting the seat. 

“Come. Come on and sit, mate.” 

Zayn walks over cautiously, setting the can on the desk. He sits in the proffered seat, but he doesn’t know what to do with his limbs. He feels disconnected from them as he folds his arms and unfolds them, decisively settling his hands in his lap. Very Casual. 

He can feel Golden Boy’s eyes on him as he gets situated, and it’s making him sweat. He swears he doesn’t normally act like this around cute boys. There’s just something about this alien-boy that makes him feel out of his element, like every tiny thing he does, every move he makes, actually matters, is actually noticed.

He finally looks up at Golden Boy’s face, his eyes locking onto those piercing blue ones, but then the boy turns away, bending down to grab something from under the desk. He pulls up a black backpack, unzips it, and takes out a Tupperware container. Zayn furrows his eyebrows in confusion until the boy takes off the lid, revealing two perfectly-rolled blunts. 

He meets Zayn’s confused expression with a shy smile and a muttered “it’s air locked.” He takes out one of the joints, closes the lid on the container, and places it back in his backpack. Zayn watches on with a sort of amazement, even though it’s all really just mundane motions. Everything Golden Boy does is something to be marveled at. 

The stranger puts the joint to his lips, producing a lighter seemingly out of thin air, and lights it. He inhales, his eyelids fluttering closed. He holds it in for a few seconds and finally breathes it out in a steady stream. He then looks over at Zayn with a slight curve to his thin lips and passes over the joint for him to take a hit.

“So, Library Boy, what’s your name?”

Zayn smirks at the nickname, “’M Zayn.” He passes the blunt back over to Golden Boy, “What’s yours?”

“Louis.” Louis. Louis. Louis. 

“I like that.”

Louis chuckles at that, shaking his head. “Thanks, mate.”

They sit in silence for a few minutes, passing the joint back and forth. It’s not awkward like earlier. It feels normal, natural. Zayn feels like it shouldn’t be so easy, like he shouldn’t fall into sync with someone after a few minutes of knowing them. That’s not something that happens. It’s probably because Louis is an alien. 

“So, do you mind telling me why, exactly, you chose to come and get high at the library instead of, I don’t know, anywhere else?” Zayn says, breaking the silence. 

Louis giggles at that. Zayn thinks that it’s a travesty that he’s gone 20 years without hearing Louis giggle before now. 

“Well, my roommate, Nick, is having his parents come up to visit for the weekend and they’re sleeping in my room, so I’m staying with our mate, Niall, in his dorm.” Zayn nods, and grabs a handful of Doritos. “And, well, I accidentally locked myself out of Niall’s dorm this morning, and he doesn’t get off of work until one. So, I was already on campus, had nowhere to go, some weed and chips in my backpack, and time to kill.” Louis finishes, shrugging. 

Zayn shakes his head at this boy’s reasoning, “You’re a bit ridiculous, mate, d’you know that?”

Louis smiles, blinding Zayn in the process. Zayn doesn’t know how he is going to make it out of this lunch break alive. He accepts his fate of being a casualty. It’ll be a noble death. 

“Yeah, I’ve heard that a few times actually.”

“’M not surprised.”

They smile at each other, holding eye contact for a moment too long. Zayn wants to jump him, honestly. He really needs to get a grip, so he distracts himself from Louis’ gaze by inhaling Doritos. Mercifully, the other boy doesn’t comment on him stuffing his face, and instead brings up a new subject.

“So, what’s your major?” 

“English.” Zayn replies, preparing himself for the onslaught of questions about what he wants to do with his degree. But he is instead met a wide-eyed Louis, surprise evident on his face. 

“Really? Me too. That’s awesome. Who’s your favorite author?”

“Oh,” it takes him a minute to wrap his mind around the question, “um, that’s really hard. I don’t know. I really like mythology stuff. The Metamorphoses is one of my favorite books. It’s a cool topic, and Ovid is poetic enough to make everything, even like gory battles, seem beautiful, y’know? But, I mean, you can also never really go wrong with some of Homer’s works as well.”

Louis is smiling at the other boy with something that Zayn just can’t place swimming in his crystal eyes.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. Those are like the true classics. It’d be hard to choose a favorite.”

“Yeah.” Zayn feels like he might explode. “So, um, what about you? Who’s your favorite?”

“Oh! Mine’s Kevin Wilson. He’s a modern writer, actually only has one novel and a collections of short stories out so far, but I don’t know. There’s just like this understanding of the human condition in his writing that I really dig. He’s great.” Louis’ still smiling while he’s talking, eyes a little cloudy. Whether from the weed or just talking about his favorite author, Zayn doesn’t know. He’s endeared either way. 

“Don’t think I’ve ever heard of him, but I’ll definitely look him up.”

“Yeah, yeah you should.” 

They sit smiling at each other for, frankly, far too long to be normal. Zayn isn’t going to complain though because Louis is wonderful to look at, and who knows, maybe this duration of silent eye contact is the norm for whatever planet Louis came from. 

But Zayn’s stomach, which apparently wants to ruin his life, decides to interrupt their moment by rumbling some more. Doritos probably weren’t the best choice of lunch. They don’t really constitute a balanced meal. He looks down at the traitor that he calls his tummy, and frowns. He glances back up to see Louis giggling behind his hand, eyes crinkled at the sides, and decides Fuck It. 

He leans forward, slowly closing the distance between the two, never breaking eye contact with the other boy. Louis’ hand drops from his face and his eyes widen; Zayn can hear him suck in a sharp breath, and stops moving, face only inches from Louis’. He’s searching the boy’s eyes for any signs that he doesn’t want this, that he should Abort Mission, but finds none. 

Zayn starts to move closer, going slower than before, giving the other boy time to object. But then, suddenly, Louis surges up and closes the distance, their mouths melding together. Louis’ lips feel soft against his, and he can taste the cheese from the Doritos on him mixed with the staleness of the weed. He’s never tasted anything better in his life. 

Zayn moves his hand, threading it through the hair on the back of Louis’ head, and he hears Louis let out a small moan. Louis maneuvers himself, all the while keeping their lips stay connected, to straddle Zayn as best he can in the small chair. Zayn doesn’t think he’s ever felt so much at once, his senses overwhelming him. Louis’ hand begins to sink lower, playing with the hem of Zayn’s hoodie, fingertip feathering over the skin near the button of his jeans. 

But then, Louis stops abruptly, the heat of his mouth no longer giving Zayn heart palpitations. He pouts and opens his eyes to see why Louis is now climbing off his lap because no, he needs Louis to stay there, that’s probably where Louis should be forever. His lap was made for Louis to sit in. He watches as the other boy walks over to the desk and, oh. A phone, he assumes Louis’, is vibrating violently in the corner. Zayn should get his hearing checked because how did he not hear that? Maybe Louis just heard it with his super powerful alien ears. 

Louis looks at the caller ID and looks back at Zayn with apologetic eyes before answering the phone. 

“Hello?” Louis says, his voice a bit raspier than before. 

Zayn can hear a tiny voice of someone who sounds like they’re shouting over the other end of the line. 

“Oh, yeah, no. I locked myself out…..Yeah, I’m at the library…Yes on campus.” Louis looks over at Zayn and rolls his eyes, sighing heavily. 

“No, Niall, I’m really not very hungry….Niall no.” Louis sighs again, “Alright then, yeah okay. Yeah see you, mate. Bye.”

Louis looks over at Zayn, smiling apologetically. “That was Niall. He just got off work and wants to get pizza. I wouldn’t go, but he said he would buy, and honestly, no one can deny free pizza.”

“Oh. Alright then.” Zayn replies, trying to smile. It turns out more like a grimace, but he tries. There’s a sinking in his gut, and all he wishes right now is that Louis had never answered the call so that they could still kissing blissfully in their own world. 

Louis interrupts his thoughts, saying nervously, “I mean, you can come with us, yeah? You would like Niall. Everyone loves Niall. He’s great. And free pizza, which is also great.”

Zayn smiles, ready to accept the offer from the bumbling Louis, but then he remembers. Work. Shit. He takes his phone out, looking at the time. He only has ten minutes left of break. The universe hates him. He sighs.

“I really fucking wish I could, Louis, but my break ends in ten and my shift doesn’t end for another three hours.” He sees Louis’ hopeful expression drop from his face, his shoulders hunching slightly. But he recovers quickly, standing up straight, putting on a dimmer-than-usual smile.

“Well, ok then.” He replies, his tone shrouded with fake nonchalance.

He begins to pack up his, now almost empty, Dorito bag, and zips up his backpack. Zayn stands up. He’s watching him, wishing he could think of something to say, anything. But, then Louis is in front of him, smiling his genuine, blinding smile. He leans forward, giving Zayn one last, sweet peck on the lips. Next thing Zayn knows, he’s slipping out of the study room door with a backwards wave and a “See you soon, yeah?” 

Zayn smiles a little at that because yeah, yeah he’ll make sure to see him soon, and he begins to spray the room with the Frebreeze. He ends up leaving the door open in hopes of airing it out because good lord, that smell will probably be ingrained into every fiber of that room for the rest of time. He finds that thought strangely comforting. 

He’s walking down the stairs (he’s a fitness god), going back to the front desk, and thinking about what he’ll do the next time he sees Louis and how soon is too soon to text him. And then he remembers. He never got his number. Fuck. Fucking shit fuck. He wants to cry. The most amazing alien-boy just waltzed into his life and Zayn forgot to get his number. The world is ending. Nothing matters. 

He sits back into his creaking, faded chair in a daze. “Y’alright?” Liam says, breaking him out of his doom-spiral. 

Zayn replies with a weak nod and shaky smile, and opens Dorian Gray. He doesn’t read a single word for the rest of the three hours. 

 

**The Next Day**

Zayn comes back from his lunch break with a vague sense of disappointment. He was hoping that maybe, just maybe, if he went up to room 234, he would miraculously find Louis sitting there waiting for him. Then he would get his number and they would snog and probably live happily ever after. But, life is a cruel mistress and Zayn spent his hour break sitting in a the room that still smelled a bit like weed and stale Doritos, staring at the empty doorway.

He definitely isn’t sulking as he starts to pick up where he left off in his book. He definitely doesn’t want to cry about Louis, it’s just that he can’t believe that Dorian would kill Basil, that’s all. Basil was always his favorite; he was such a simple, gentle soul. He didn’t deserve such a cold death. Zayn needs to go home. 

He jumps a bit in surprise at Liam’s voice, saying “Oh! Zayn! Some guy came by while you were on break, left you a note. He said it was very top secret and that I couldn’t read it, but that it was of the utmost importance. Which I don’t really understand why he had to say that. I wasn’t going to read your personal note, but the way he phrased it just made me really want to. It was torture not reading, and it was really a bit rude for him to tempt me like that, but-“ 

“Liam just give it to me, please.” Zayn’s heart is racing. Oh god did his alien-god leave him a note? He’s going to pass out. 

Liam hands him a post-it note that had been folded into a tiny square, a tiny dick drawn on the front. He opens it, and finds a message scrawled in messy handwriting. 

_Hi Zayn,_

_Kinda forgot to give you my number yesterday. I really hope you call me or text me or something, yeah? I mean you at least owe me a bag of Doritos considering you practically ate my entire Family Sized bag._

_:) –Louis_

There’s a hastily scribbled number at the bottom, and Zayn thinks he’s going to throw up. In a good way. A happiness puke. He pulls out his phone, storing the name under “Louis” with the alien emoji, and he can’t help but feel like this is the start of something big. 


End file.
